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imactuallynotsorry · 2 years ago

Text

Somewhere Else

Book: The Nanny Affair, Book 3

Word Count: ~4730 (I haven't written TNA in a loooong time... I had a lot to say)

Song Inspo: "Paris" by Taylor Swift

Summary: Brynn (MC) reminisces about her whirlwind of a wedding day that was filled with jitters and professions of love.

Warning: a little language; fluff; bits of angst

AN: This is my submission for @moodmusicmonday's the Luck of the Draw! I'm not exactly a Swiftie, but this was so much fun, gleaning inspo from a song I otherwise would never have known! Thank you to whoever sent it, and to my amazing counter-part @sfb123 (who... I don't know if y'all know this, but she has been running MMM for most--if not all--of 2023): thank you for hosting this event, sister! You did a GREAT job!

A/N 2: These characters, some of the plot and even some of the dialogue belong to our friends at Pixelberry! Not truly preread or beta'd, so please excuse my errors!

~🖤~

Present

"... tonight on ET, we have the wedding exclusive of billionaire bachelor Samuel Dalton and his nanny-turned-fiancée Brynn Schuyler–"

The glow of the screen flickers to black before hosting a new picture.

"... I'm here with the groom's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Mason Dalton. Seeing your son at the altar like that, tell us –"

The soft click of a button changes to another channel.

"...the two are pictured here before they scurried off to an undisclosed location, some believe they are still here in Mexico–"

He turns off the television before tossing the remote onto the coffee table in our suite. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, running an anxious hand through his thick, chestnut waves. No doubt, he's staring at dozens of missed calls and unanswered texts.

I don't know if it was the turning of the bathroom doorknob, or if he could hear my nervous, labored breathing, but he abruptly stops, dropping his phone as he fixes his hungry gaze to me. A crooked smile forms as he devours me with his dark eyes, the flecks of copper reflecting in the candlelight.

Butterflies evade my belly as I stand before him, wearing nothing but the white shirt from his tux. I fidget with the cuffs of the long sleeves as they keep falling past my hands. I can feel him watching my body, an innocent awe etching across his face.

"I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt." I blush, averting my eyes as the oversized cotton material slouches off of my sunkissed shoulder, exposing my bare skin. "I don't exactly have anything else–"

"It's perfect," he croons softly. He stalks closer to me, his hands finding mine. "You really think I wanted to see you a moment longer in that dress?" He chuckles, the warmth in his tone exhilarating my senses.

We fall into a comfortable silence, our eyes locked on one another.

We're finally here.

Him. And me. Forever.

------

Earlier that day

“...So as I look to our… to our–” I pause from my neurotic pacing, glancing down at my notes before quickly darting my eyes away once again. I wrote my wedding vows weeks ago, and had no problem memorizing them. But something about today… something is freaking me out.

“So as I look to our future, I vow to… I vow to, um… Damnit!” I hold up my vows again, but with my clumsy, nervous fingers, I accidentally drop the index cards. “Shit! Shit!” I try to catch them as each one floats into various directions all over the floor, some of them finding their way underneath the furniture of my bridal dressing room suite. With a heavy sigh, I crawl on my knees, attempting to reach the ones that fell under the coffee table.

“Happy wedding day–!”

I jump. The sudden chirp of my best friend's voice causes the back of my skull to meet the glass table with an abrupt thud followed by a tearful groan. "Ow!" I fall forward, my face finding the ornate rug as my fingers shield my now-aching head.

"Brynn!" Jenny panics, seeing my body now splayed on the floor. Aditya helps me up, assisting me to a nearby chaise lounge. Marisol fills a tea towel with ice before applying it to the back of my head with care. Jenny plops down next to me, biting her nail in worry. "What were you doing down there?"

I force a cordial smile, holding up a single note card. "Vows," I mutter, the small gesture making me wince from the surge of pain.

"Ahh! Your vows!" Jenny squeals at a higher decibel than normal. "You're finally a blushing bride! Can you believe it?"

"I… I can't believe it." My eyes widen in shock. I'm trying to match my best friend's enthusiasm, but I'm starting to wonder if I'm missing the bride gene. You know; the one that makes you giggle like a schoolgirl at even the dumbest jokes and cry happy, pretty tears at everything bridal.

Me? I think I'm about to hurl.

Jenny grabs my hand, admiring my engagement ring yet again. I blame her pregnancy hormones, and her desire to be locked down with someone. No doubt, she'd prefer Aditya, but at this point, I think she'll take anyone.

"Mrs. Samuel J. Dalton," Jenny singsongs, letting go of my fingers. She clasps her hands dreamily with a far-off daze in her bronze eyes.

I stare back down at the heavy rock on my finger, my arm growing fatigue under its weight. The glint from the sun catches the cut diamond just right, casting blinding fractals in my eyes. I hiss from the abrupt intrusion of bright light to my vision.

Mrs. Samuel J. Dalton, I repeat to myself. "I'm… I'm getting married," I state matter-of-factly as a catch my reflection in the floor-length mirror. "I'm… getting…" my voice becomes softer, more hoarse as I stand to look closer at myself. "I'm marrying Sam Dalton…" I can't seem to catch my breath as I watch my bridal party pop open a bottle of chilled champagne–and a bottle of sparkling grape juice. My voice grows louder, anxious. And terrified. "I'm marrying Sam Dalton… today!"

"Yes!" Jenny celebrates passing me a flute, "isn't this awesome?" She cheers with my glass before I watch the others lift their drinks in my honor. And everyone seems to freeze, staring at me to say something.

Truth is… I have no words. Oh God, what is happening?

"It's… awesome," I choke out, hoping my bright smile will convince them. And convince me. I quickly down the entire glass.

“I’m so excited for you and Sam," Jenny continues to gloat.

"Me and Sam." I take a deep cleansing breath. Right. Eye on the prize, Brynn. Me and Sam. It's just you and Sam. It's just you… and…

“So how’re you holding up?" Marisol takes a seat on a couch, crossing her legs nonchalantly. "I remember I was an absolute wreck at my wedding. Any pre-wedding jitters?”

Jenny chuckles, waving her hand in the air as if the mention of nerves is preposterous. "Jitters? This gal has been dreaming about this day since she met the hottie."

Aditya snickers. He saunters up close to Jenny, wrapping his arms around her waist before taking a sip of his bubbly drink.

I glance around the room, everyone's attention stuck on me. Damnit, I know I'm the bride and today is about me. But does everyone have to be staring at me like that, like I've given them a new hope in love, that love does conquer all, that Sam and I are their new favorite fairy tale?

"Right, Brynn?" Jenny prompts when I stay silent, nodding her head.

“I… feel like I’ve never been more ready for anything." I take a deep cleansing breath before curling my lips into a bright grin. "No jitters. No doubts.”

Jenny claps her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Then let’s get you to the altar–starting with your dress!”

The dress… my wedding dress… right…

------

Present

My cell phone rings, the chime breaking us both from the haze of the day. I had put it on Do Not Disturb when we left the ceremony, save for a few numbers. I had a sneaking suspicion of who it was.

And I don't care.

He smirks, nodding over his shoulder. "You gonna get that?"

I step forward, sliding my hands up the firm planes of his chest until I intertwine my fingers behind his neck. I shake my head. "Nothing could be more important than being here with you, being us."

Slipping his arms around my waist, he tenderly presses his forehead to mine. He nuzzles his nose flesh to my skin, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. His mouth is a breath away from discovering my own… when my phone rings again.

He smirks, chuckling at the annoyance and slightly pulling away.

"Damnit," I mutter.

He kisses my temple. "Go ahead," he encourages, "it'll be like ripping off a band-aid." He teasingly spanks my ass. "And then I'll kiss it and make it better."

“Promise?” I snicker, enjoying his hands on me, but reality quickly sets in. My eyes flutter close as my heart begins to pound like a drum in my chest. Just face the music…

I walk over to grab my phone, peering at the screen. I cinch my eyes closed again before swiping to answer the call.

"Hey–"

"Oh, thank God!" Jenny shouts through my speaker. "When you weren't answering, I just assumed the worst–"

"Jenny, I–"

"You guys just left," she nervously titters, "no goodbyes or anything. We went to your room, and–"

"Listen, I can't stay long. But everything is okay. Better, actually. And we're safe. We found another place to stay... You know? Get away from the chaos and the press." I chew on the inside of my mouth. "Can you… tell Moma that?"

"Yeah, of course, but Brynny… are you–"

"Jenny, stop. I promise, I will tell you everything when we get back from our trip. Okay?" My best friend doesn't respond right away, and I'm not sure if my answers satisfy her genuine curiosity.

"I… I just want to make sure you're happy."

I look at the beautiful man sitting on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. And suddenly, I am overwhelmed with feelings of joy as I see our future play out in front of me. With our kids. The business. With each other. And it all finally seems so perfectly clear.

"Jen," my eyes sting with pricks of tears, "I've never been happier."

------

Earlier that day…

"Brynn! Brynn!"

Startled, I spin around to see my favorite boys bounding around the foyer. "Whoa, whoa, you guys–" They crash into my arms as I bend down to catch them. I pepper kisses into their handsome curls, breathing in their scent that always feels like home. Gosh, my boys…

Mickey stands tall with his arms behind his back. “Miss Naya told us to give you this!” He pulls out my bouquet of fresh roses, a bountiful collection of gorgeous creams and soft pale pinks. "Tada!"

My breath hitches, taken aback by how absolutely dreamy everything has turned out. This wedding… it… it's really happening. I take the bouquet, the sweet floral notes dancing around me before I turn to look at two pairs of glittering eyes.

"It's almost as pretty as you, Brynn," Mason pushes his glasses up his nose.

"Just like a princess," Mickey chimes in.

“You two look pretty sharp yourselves,” I wink, adjusting Mason’s bowtie before fixing a wayward curl behind Mickey’s ear. "Do you have the rings like we practiced?"

The twins nod their heads in unison, pulling out the velvet boxes. "I promise we won't drop them," Mickey flashes a worried glance.

"Baby," I cup his freckled cheek, "you're going to do just fine." I place my hand on Mason's shoulder. "Both of you."

"Do we have to call you 'Mom' after you marry Dad?" Mason innocently questions.

Mom. The word hits like a brick in the pit of my stomach. I'm going to be someone's mother… not just one person, but I'm going to be a mother of two…

And this is no surprise to me. Afterall, Mickey and Mason are the entire reason I even met this family. I've only known the Daltons for less than a year, and yet, I have been one of the only mother figures in their young lives. When I agreed to marry Sam, it was a package deal.

God, I love them so much. They have given me so much joy, even on days I didn't think I was going to make it. Between the incessant fights and the scandals, these two precious boys have seen me and loved me for me. They were my family long before… well, long before Sam and me…

I can't imagine living a day without a joke or a prank from those two… but being their actual mother? Making sure these two boys grow into successful men?

"Well?" Mickey prompts for an answer to his brother's question.

I pull them both into a tight hug. "You two can call me whatever you want. The most important thing you need to know is I will always be here for you two."

"And Dad," Mickey teases, grinning.

"Right, Brynn?" Mason tugs on my elbow.

"Miss Schuyler," a deep, familiar voice resonates through the waiting area, tearing me from my conversation with the boys. "You are absolutely ravishing, my dear."

"Oh, Mr. Carter, you old dog," I blush as the tall, older gentleman dressed in a neatly pressed tux approaches us. I embrace him tightly as he gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Well, let me take a look at you," he gleefully laughs, taking me by the hand. He twirls me in a circle, the skirt of my dress flouncing out like a dream. Carter playfully whistles. "Enchanting," he grins, his gray eyes twinkling as his voice grows softer. "You remind me so much of my Evelyn on our wedding day."

My eyes glisten at the mention of his wife. Unfortunately, she couldn't be with us today. Carter says that she has her 'good days and bad days,' I sense the latter outweighs the former, but still the way he speaks of his wife of forty years is precious, the envy of my dreams and future.

I offer him a kind smile, trying to blink back the tears, but I can feel my face begin to flush.

Suddenly, the gentle crescendo of music coming from the chapel notifies us that it's time for the ceremony to start. Carter and I give the boys one more glance, reminding them to walk slowly and to smile. Mickey and Mason hear their cue, and just like we rehearsed, they begin their trek to the altar.

And now... I'm next.

Carter begins to leave to sneak back into his seat, but I grab him by his arm. I start to fidget with the boutonnière on his lapels. "Mr. Carter, I… I… did you maybe… I don't know–"

He takes my hands in his, calming my trembling fingers. "Miss Schuyler, take a deep breath."

I follow his directions, taking a deep gulp of air. "Jitters, right?" I exhale, fanning myself with my hand. "Perfectly normal, right?"

Carter kindly nods, guiding me slowly to the entrance. "When you step in there, find Mr. Dalton's eyes, and you stay focused on them. That's what helped on our wedding day."

"So you were nervous, too?" I glance down the aisle, noticing the twins are halfway to their spots. I quickly step back, my eyes fluttering closed. "And that helped you?"

He curls his lips endearingly. "It helped Evelyn."

"Really?" My eyes widen. "How?

He smirks as he recalls the memory. "We came from different families, you know? And because of that, she was terrified on what was supposed to be the best day of our lives. Seeking the approval of her parents, her family, even some of her friends… It was a lot of pressure on her."

"Gosh, that must've been hard."

"It was," he nods, "but, she said that on that day, she found my eyes… and they said everything that she needed to know."

My heart swoons at the thought. "She saw the love in your eyes?"

Carter coyly shakes his head. He must see my confusion because he gives a deep, hearty laugh. "You are a treasure, Miss Schuyler, just like my Evelyn. A man that loves you will look at you as such, not with greed over what he's getting… but with fear because he sees how much he has to lose; he realizes he would be wrecked, completely devastated without you."

An overwhelming sense of calm washes over me.

Find his eyes…

You are a treasure…

He sees how much he has to lose…

I squeeze Carter's hands, pulling him into one last embrace. "Thank you so much," my voice hitches.

He nods affectionately. "You feel ready?" He helps me adjust my veil.

"Almost." I bite my lip, stifling a mischievous grin. "Mr. Carter, do you mind… walking me down the aisle?"

The most handsome smile sweeps across his face as he buttons the jacket of his tux. With his eyes glittering down at me, he offers me his arm. "It would be my honor."

------

Present

"Is everyone freaking out?" He chuckles, extending his arm for me to take his hand.

I end the call, tossing my phone across the room. "I… don't care," I snicker. "Probably." Slipping my fingers into his palm, he pulls me to his side, my body crashing into him. We both tumble back onto the bed, our grunts turning into boisterous laughter, filling our room.

As our bellies begin to ache and we quiet down, I roll off of him, laying down next to him. We stare at the ceiling, falling into a comfortable silence… that is until I notice him pointing at the textured surface above us.

"What are you doing?"

He chuckles. "When I was little, I used to dream of traveling the world. I tried using my grandpa's old world atlas to map out the perfect trip, and…" He titters, shaking his head with embarrassment, "I can't believe I'm telling you this."

"No," I roll onto my side, resting my hand on his chest. "I love it–I love this." I kiss his shoulder. "Keep going."

He rests his hand on mine, softly drawing circles with his thumb. "We had old popcorn ceilings," he chuckles, "kinda like this textured stuff, and so… I'd imagine it was my own world map. And at night, I would plan my–" he deepens his voice like the narrator of a movie trailer, "--international escape."

"Ooooo, show me, James Bond."

I start to giggle as he takes my hand in the air with his, his fingers curling around mine to extend my pointer finger. "Well, over here is us right now in Puerto Vallarta… and…" he moves our hands together, "up here is New York." He starts to blush, shrugging his shoulders.

"How about–" I guide our fingers to another spot, "--London?"

He chuckles. "I'll pack my knickers," he jokes in a British accent.

"And then Paris," I move our hands again.

"Oui oui, mon chéri," he jokes in his poor attempt to sound French, making me bust out into more titters. He guides us once more. "How about Venice?" He points to another area on the ceiling, his voice growing softer. "Or Athens? Or Bali? Hong Kong?"

I brush my nose against his stubbled cheek, whispering in his ear. "And then where?"

He turns towards me, the warmth of his chocolate gaze fluttering to my hungry lips as he places my hand back on his chest. "To the moon and stars?" The air around us begins to crackle, the electricity igniting our nerves as I feel my heart begin to race. I bite my lip, feeling a rosy swirl dance across my cheeks. "Anywhere. Somewhere else. With you."

I can feel his heartbeat thrum hard against my fingertips, the excitement feeding my desire for him.

I love him.

His large hand intimately caresses mine… but then he stops, looking down at my fingers. Feeling the abrupt disconnect, I follow his gaze and quickly notice he's fidgeting with something.

My ring.

------

Earlier that day…

I thought I knew what I wanted for my wedding day, but in this very moment as Pachelbel's Canon in D romantically announces my arrival, I am overcome with so much emotion as I look around the room. This is everything I ever wanted: to be surrounded by love. My breath shutters as I try to blink away my tears. This… this is absolutely perfect.

Carter pats my hand gripping tightly to his arm as he walks me graciously down the aisle. "There he is," he whispers to me, "look at him."

Sam. He's as handsome as ever in his gray suit and petal pink tie. His eyes twinkle, roaming my body as I draw closer to the altar. He offers me that charming Dalton smile, and everything seems to fade away.

It's just you and me, baby… Finally… after everything you put me through– I mean--that we've gone through…

I can do this... I can do this... I can–

Without warning, Sam gradually turns towards his groomsmen. One of his old fraternity brother's has made some kind of comment, causing some of them to crack up. During my procession.

Sam seems to be responding to the joke or comment. He subtly leans over, but after a few seconds, some of the men snicker, covering their faces and Sam chuckles into his fist, feigning a coughing fit.

It's fine, I tell myself.

Getting himself under control, Sam looks back to me with a mischievous glint in his eye before winking at me.

It was just a joke– an inside joke perhaps. Probably to help with his own nerves. It--it's fine. Everything is fine.

Just… stay with me, Sam. Please stay. I need to see your–

The twins lean up against their dad as he rests his hands on their shoulders. Together, they all watch me with doting glances… that is until one of the velvet boxes accidentally falls out of Mickey’s pocket. In a panic, he bends over to grab the small package, carelessly backing into his brother Mason, knocking off his glasses.

Giving me a crooked smile and shrugging his shoulders, Sam takes a knee to help the boys out, causing endearing chuckles from the audience.

Those two rascals…

I begin to admire my little mess of a family-to-be… until the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My pulse, without explanation, begins to race as a bead of sweat courses down the slope of my back.

Something doesn't feel right.

I can't help, but feel… as crazy as it sounds, like there's another pair of eyes on me. Of course, I realize I have over two-hundred guests watching me as I finish my march down the aisle, but this? This isn't the same. This stare… it's different. It's piercing, and intimate. And I feel… seen. Exposed. Preyed.

Looking behind Sam's crouched physique, a pair of deep, chestnut eyes feast on my every move. But rather than being filled with adoration or even his typical lust, there's a hint of sadness in them, as if they're watching a funeral procession rather than a wedding.

And for the first time today, my heart flutters as a fire kindles in my belly.

I make it to the altar, Carter placing my petite hand in my groom's grasp. I can feel the desire in Sam's eyes wandering across my body. He gives my fingers a squeeze, giving me another adoring wink… but I can't stop looking at him.

Focus, Brynn. Just focus…

Naya gives us a cordial smile before taking the microphone to begin. "Dearly beloved friends and family, we've gathered here today…"

It's no use. I can feel the bile rise in the back of my throat as the room begins to spin. Is it getting hot in here? Or are there just too many people?

As Naya continues, I look back to those haunting eyes, that look of betrayal, that look of devastation… and Carter's words begin to replay in my mind. 'A man that loves you will look at you… with fear because he sees how much he has to lose; he realizes he would be wrecked… without you."

Oh my God… I never noticed this before but… he loves me.

"... speak now," Naya bellows, "or... forever hold your–"

"Wait!" Fuck! What did I just do? The entire congregation starts to quietly murmur amongst one another. Sam clears his throat, his eyebrows furrowing as he adjusts his collar. "I–I'm sorry to interrupt, but… I just… I have a question, and I…" I sigh. "I can't do this–I can't get married unless… I need the answer."

A hush falls over the room, concerned looks are glued on me.

I should just shut up, and go along with this. Isn't that what I've been doing for the past several months anyway with the promise of a happily ever after? Does fairy tale magically happen after we say, 'I do?'

No. In my heart, I know this is the right thing to do. For me.

"Robin?" More whispers erupt behind me as Sam turns back to look at his best man, a pained confusion etching on his handsome features. "Several weeks ago, we pretended to be the wait staff in a restaurant… to, uh… witness a date." Sam raises an eyebrow, looking between Robin and me. "I asked you a question at the beginning of the night. Do you… do you remember my question?"

Robin coyly pushes his fists into his slacks, nodding his head. He exhales heavily, his nose rosy pink with unshed emotion.

My vision blurs as hot streams pour down my cheeks, but my attention doesn't leave Robin. "You… you answered, 'Sure. Sometimes…'" A lump forms in my throat, my timbre growing hoarse. "Tell me, Robin… if I asked you that same question right now, what–what would your answer be?" I choke out a sob, wiping my face with the back of my hands.

He just stares at me. Lost. Dumbfounded. Embarrassed.

I know this wasn't exactly the most opportune time to talk about this, but I also knew this would be our last time to talk about it. Damnit, maybe I was wrong. Carter was wrong. My jitters and my awful gut feeling… wrong.

I look at Sam, his jaw ticking in anger. And he has every right to be. I've made a fool of him, of us.

But I could've sworn I saw something…

"Sorry, everyone," Sam kindly addresses the audience, "we have a case of the wedding day jitters." He fakes a bright smile, the crowd tittering and cooing. At me. Like I'm a joke. Again. Sam takes my hand, but he refuses to even look at me now.

Will he ever take me seriously? I... I don't want to get married like this.

Sam clears his throat, nodding to Naya to continue. "Let's try this again," she chuckles, "we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of–"

"I lied," Robin blurts out, inviting the chaos to continue amongst the guests. He steps forward, pushing himself in front of Sam. "Brynn, you asked me if I ever thought about us–" Gasps and whispers crescendo in the room as Robin takes my hands into his. "And I told you… what I thought you wanted to hear. I mean, for Christ's sake, you swore you were in love with..." The corner of his mouth curls, his eyes bearing it all before me. "I knew better," he mumbles, falling into nervous titters, squeezing tightly to my fingers. "The truth is… Brynn Schuyler... Hell, of course, I think about us. All of the time. I dream of you as my bride. As my wife. As the mother to my children… I've never stopped thinking about us since the moment I first met you–"

Screams erupt as family members and friends jump to their feet. Naya attempts to holler through her microphone to restore order, but it's too late. Our guests that have come to attend a beautiful, romantic wedding have turned into an ugly, angry mob.

I get lost in the shuffle, unable to recognize anyone around me. My name is being screamed in several directions by several different voices, but it's no use. Terrified, I glance around, looking for a way to safety as everything crumbles around me.

Suddenly, a large hand grabs mine, pulling me through the vocal crowd. As we finally make it to the back of the sanctuary, his lips graze my ear. "Do you trust me?"

A rush of exhilaration floods my veins as my natural smile returns. Are you kidding me? With all my heart.

I nod.

"Don't look back, baby," he chuckles, tucking my arm under his. "Run!"

------

Present

"Do you mind, Miss Schuyler?" He smirks, grabbing my engagement ring on my hand.

I roll my lips, trying to hide my smile as I tilt my head side-to-side. "Not at all, Mr. Flores. Please."

Robin slips the jewelry off of my finger before pressing his lips to my now bare knuckle. It was so simple, yet the gesture so intimate; I was finally free.

This man…

Pulling me into his arms, he tosses the ring over his shoulder, an abrupt clink hitting the wall. With his handsome crooked smile, he leans towards me. "Don't worry," he chuckles, "I made him buy the insurance."

"Robin!" I squeal before our mouths meet in a tender kiss.

"What?" He pulls back, cupping my cheek. "I had a feeling."

"A feeling?" I snicker, raising an eyebrow. "That it wasn't going to work out?"

"Ehh, more .." He brushes his thumb across my lips, a serious expression growing across his face. "That you were the one. For me."

~🖤~

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~🖤~

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imactuallynotsorry · 2 years ago

Text

A World For Her Alone | Things lost, things beloved

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

cw (chapter specific): murder, misogyny, infidelity, forced marriage, suicide

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: The aftermath of loss takes its toll and with the walls closing in, reader is left with one choice. Whether she knows it or not.

author's note: Felix is reader's knight! How fun! Boy, I sure hope nothing bad happens in this one!

The sunlight was blinding as soon as your eyes opened yet again and you were hit with a horrid feeling of loss. Seconds ago you were hearing your child’s cries, just moments ago. You had lost them. The realization of that sunk in slowly, as slow as the seconds had gone while you had given birth. You were stumbling before you knew it and the world turned on its side before you caught yourself on the table.

“What’s the matter?” Claude said, looking at you with those weary eyes and that wry smile you were all too familiar with.

“Where are they?” You muttered.

“Sister?” Diana looked at you with her wide eyes full of unease.

“Where is my child?” You could have screamed if only you were strong enough.

Upon seeing your sweet sister’s guileless face, you were seized with a grief bigger than any you had ever known. You grasped her shoulders tightly, squeezing her and looking deeply into those eyes which did not rebuke you nor show guilt.

“You took them from me, didn’t you? It wasn’t enough for you to have him, you wanted the only thing…” You didn’t even finish your ranting before Claude had pulled you off, gripping your arm harshly enough to bruise.

“You don’t have a child yet. No one has taken anything from you” He uselessly explained, in a disgruntled voice suppressing anger.

You wilted under his grip immediately, tears springing to your eyes as you pulled away. “Please, help me…I–” Your mouth could not find the words to accurately relay the pain you were in. No matter how wanted, no matter how loved, that child would be lost to you forever. And you did not even see their face, all you had to hold onto was the golden hair of a man who looked down at you now with contempt.

You teetered away from the table, nearly falling before Felix, your knight, caught you.

“I’m afraid my lady isn’t feeling well, I’ll see her to her room” He said simply. His speech was lacking the proper consideration for Claude’s status but he didn’t seem to be concerned. Before Claude or Diana could respond, he was walking off with you.

“You left me, Felix. I was alone.”

“Never, my lady. It is my duty to be at your side” He refuted quietly.

“I never held them...Who did they give my child to? Claude wasn’t there. You weren’t there.”

“I will always be there to protect you, my lady. I have sworn it so” You had no idea why he was even entertaining your delusions, but he patiently responded as if he didn’t consider you insane although you knew it was just to placate you. In consideration of your feelings.

“Why would you give me your hand in those moments if you knew you wouldn’t be there when I needed it the most?”

“My lady, I promise that I will be there whenever you need.”

“But you cannot. You cannot save me.”

That quieted him. There was worry in his eyes, something rarely seen. Although you refuted his attempts to calm you, the kindness still brought tears to your eyes when you were alone. A bit of comfort could feel like heaven. A drop of clean water while you had waited in your cell could have tasted like the nectar of the gods then. You would have wept then, too, if only there had been such mercy as you were receiving now.

Your father barred your window. No matter your attempts to assure him that you hadn’t gone insane, he refused to believe them. You were not allowed to leave your room save for going to the library and even so, your knight was to stand inside at all times instead of at the door. All the while, Claude was still visiting the manor. Only this time, exclusively to see Diana.

“My lady, Lord Claude is with Lady Diana again” Felix brought the information to you with a restless tone as if displeased.

“Ah yes, he’s keeping her company…” You murmured emotionlessly.

“He does so quite frequently without even seeing my lady, will you not say anything to Lady Diana?” He was almost pleading.

“It can’t be helped even if I say something. He is the one who goes to her, mother and father abide the visits as well” You said, resigned. It couldn't be helped, you told yourself again and again. It seemed like the truth, no matter what feelings bloomed whether yours or Claude's, the path to marriage would remain imminent. What cause was there for your parents to care? Especially if it made Diana happy. “Do you know why it is that my father put bars on my bedroom windows and has you stand at my side constantly now?”

Felix did not answer. “It isn’t because he thinks I’ll hurt myself. It’s because he’s afraid that I will escape.”

“My lady…” He frowned, his brow furrowing.

That much was the truth. Your father wouldn’t be concerned for something as insignificant as your life. It was about making sure that you completed your duties. You wondered, in your past life, had he cared that you died? Most likely not, since you had already given Claude his precious heir and no honor or expense had been lost to the family.

In stillness and quiet, you could still hear your child’s cries. It was so miserable a sound you wanted to claw at the walls and the ground as if it would open up and let you see them again. But your eyes caught Felix’s and remembered the feeling of comfort yet again. You could have drowned in those eyes, you wanted to lose yourself to them and feel nothing. You did. For a time.

It was raining the night you ran away from home. You had asked Felix to take you away. Hand in hand you went into that miserable night and disappeared, relieved to finally be entirely unseen. There was no way the two of you could return to your lives, the two of you would bear each other as long as you were on the run. No longer noble, no longer a knight, the two of you still remain liege and vassal. Felix, until the end, protected you.

But the matter of a missing noble bride to be was a massive affair, it was the loss of many hardwon assets. One that prompted the use of knights scouting their whereabouts. And a house as influential as Claude’s had no shortage of help. Knights spread throughout the country and truly it was only a matter of time before you were found. In the end, it hadn’t been more than a few weeks.

Felix, a knight who dishonored himself with the crime of stealing away the bride of a noble house, was killed on sight. Without comrades, a single sword against many, he was done in quickly. Not without blood which splattered lightly on your dress and leaked onto the ground in a pool that ran from the downpour. Over without a flinch from the hand holding the sword.

You yourself were brought back, despite the enormous scandal. When the knights who apprehended you brought you to Claude’s manor, you sat before his mother.

“Everyone has unavoidable duties, every occupation has its purpose. That knight fulfilled his, I suppose, dying for his master” She laughed lightly as if it were only a foolish thing he’d done.

“It’s true that you were the one learning the skills necessary for your station” She continued. “But our house was always the one who bore the burden of your education. Did you think these things meant nothing? The tutors, the books, the tools, they were worth money — money that our house invested on the condition of your marriage.”

“Not only did we invest our wealth, but our time. What has it been, 13 years to make you a marchioness? You must understand, my daughter-in-law, you cannot be replaced.”

Her words echoed in your mind. She was right, it was the only reason to accept a woman who’d run off with another man back into her position. A bride was too valuable an asset to lose, let alone one who had been readily imbued with the knowledge necessary. No. Of course they wouldn’t have let her be. And of course they couldn’t let Felix live, in fear that you’d already eloped with him and your very important marriage would be made invalid. From that standpoint, you understood. But you couldn’t stop seeing Felix’s body, trampled on and mangled, disregarded in the aftermath. As if he were nothing at all.

Soon after that, you had been permitted a visit from a girl about as young as you. She looked to be the daughter of a merchant from her clothing, too intricate to be simply commoner clothing and too modest to be noble. She was lovely, with blue eyes and brown hair, wearing what was not quite mourning garb. It looked to be a normal style of dress made black, without a veil or gloves.

“I was Felix’s fiance” She began, looking at you through hateful eyes. “We were going to get married once things had settled down with you. I told him that I’d wait, no matter how long it was, I was prepared to be his wife in time. Did you ever think he had someone?” This woman could not even wear proper mourning attire because they were not yet wed when Felix was killed. Their relationship did not fall under those worth mourning, because according to etiquette, they did not yet have one. They were two young people waiting to become part of each other’s lives officially.

You couldn’t offer useless sorries, your mouth would not form words.

“What a tragedy Felix was dealt, having you as his lady” She spat, paying no mind to the tears rolling down her face as she wrung her handkerchief in anger. Why had you not considered that Felix had obligations of his own? A marriage must have surely been struck between his family and hers as was not uncommon in wealthier common and lesser noble families. You had taken Felix’s pity for something more than the loyalty that it was. He took your hand and helped you to escape because you were the lady he chose to obey. You had made him flout his duties with no consideration.

You had wept as you walked down the aisle, the wedding had been moved up in light of the scandal. They did not want to give you even half a chance to run away again. Silent tears fell as you gazed with eyes as lifeless as a doll’s, at the altar.

“Why are you the one crying when I’m the one who was betrayed?” Claude had remarked sharply at your tears, certainly disgusted though he did not show it. The onlookers and witnesses of your wedding were there to gawk at the mess of a girl who tried to run away and cheat her fiance on her promise.

After the wedding, you had been left alone finally by Claude who reviled you and your in-laws who had been satisfied to see the wedding had gone through. You could not function as the marchioness, not with the guilt weighing on you on top of everything. Nothing had changed for the better, you had added new problems to the ones you already had. The image of blood being washed away by rain, mixing into mud, haunted you. It had rained the day of your wedding too. And had you simply imagined that it had every day since? The storm sounded like wailing, like that of a newborn.

You tore the sheets with your teeth and wove them into makeshift rope.

tags: @kage-tobiuo @kreishin @rosephantomhive @yeahdrarry @splaterparty0-0 @dear-dairiess @qluvrv @hafsuhhh @eissaaaa @ayolk @doan-19 @fourcefulcupid @ariachaos @cerisearan @irisspade @yaesflorist @jcrml @xiaosprettygf @yevenly @amaris08atoshi012022 @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man softbummiee

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imactuallynotsorry · 3 years ago

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This is my villain origin story

#please robin i don’t want sam i want you #it should of been you #i wanted it so bad

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imactuallynotsorry · 3 years ago

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fake it till you make it

pt. one | pt. two

characters: iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader

eris’ notes: everyone say thank u emp for helping me. anyways i’m suuuuper excited for this series so like let’s hope it goes well <3

warnings: none

when you bumped into your brother’s childhood best friend on the sidewalks of japan, not knowing he was even back in the country, of course you were ecstatic to see him. after a tight hug and many cheery words of greeting, the two of you decided it would be nice to grab lunch together, to catch up.

you didn’t expect the conversation of ‘catching up’ to take this turn though.

“what?” you choke on your drink, hitting your chest a few times to get through the coughs. “hajime, you’re joking.”

“do i look like i’m joking?” iwaizumi asks, eyebrow raised and elbows crossed on the table. “listen, you know i wouldn’t ask for this if i wasn’t desperate. just help me out, okay? just this one time.”

your eyes narrow at him, your lips twisting to the side. honestly you’d probably do any favor for him, really, but maybe you like seeing him squirm a little bit.

“what’s in it for me?”

“dumbass—yn,” he corrects himself, raising his fingers to press into his temple, forcing a smile onto his face. “come on. can’t you just do me this one favor?”

“i can,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. you can’t help the smirk that spreads across your lips. “but what’s the fun in that?”

the man in front of you groans, rolling his eyes and slumping back in his own seat, glaring at you through his lashes.

“oikawas. all of you are a pain in my ass.”

“i’ll make sure to pass that message along to my mother.”

“you won’t.”

“i won’t,” you grin, “but the look on your face when i threatened to was cute.”

he would deny it if you were to point it out, but the faintest ghost of pink dusts the tips of iwaizumi’s ears at your tease. he really is cute, though you wouldn’t dare admit that out loud seriously. you dealt with enough taunting during your school days about your older brother’s best friend, you sure as hell don’t want more of it coming from the man himself.

“practicing already?”

“maybe,” you hum, tilting your head to the side. “or maybe i just like seeing you try to fight off your blush so much. you still are such an open book, hajime.”

okay, maybe you’re pushing this a little too far now, but you just can’t help it when the flush spreads to his cheeks now, just barely, and your insides do a little happy dance at successfully flustering him.

“whatever,” iwaizumi huffs, pushing his hands on the table and rising up from him seat. “this is stupid. forget i even asked.”

a sudden pang of guilt makes your heart clench and you waste no time shooting your hand out to catch hajime’s arm, making him stop before he has a chance to even take a step.

“wait, hey, i’m sorry. i’ll stop now.”

this time when you smile up at him, it’s genuine. sweet, even. if you were more observant you might have even noticed the way hajime’s breath hitched ever so slightly, how his forearm flexed under your palm. but you miss all that, and tug at him to sit back down.

“you know i’d do anything for you,” you continue, releasing your grip when the man in front of you finally settles back in his seat. “just give me the full run down. we’re going to be.. uhm..”

“dating,” he supplies, then clears his throat. “fake dating. i just need my parents to get off my damn back about ‘settling down’ already. nothing too serious.”

“yeah. but this is just for your parents, right? like, i can tell my friends that you and i aren’t really together?”

“i mean yeah, as long as they won’t blab about it,” he shrugs, swirling his drink around in his cup. “it just needs to look real. maybe a few social media posts, go out every now and then. i’m sure my family will want to have us over for dinner. you know, basic shit.”

“right,” you nod, propping your chin up in your hand. “so just doing enough to make it look like we’re madly in love. i think i can manage that.”

“this should be a piece of cake for you,” hajime smiles, and the tone of his voice tells you that what’s about to come out of his mouth is going to piss you off in a millisecond. “just channel that little crush you had on me when you were in middle school.”

“i did not have a—“ you cut yourself off as you notice the eyes you’re drawing towards you with your little outburst, instantly lowering your voice. “i did not have a crush on you. besides, i was twelve. i saw any mildly pretty boy and i swooned.”

“so you do think i’m pretty.”

“no, you grew out of that a long time ago.”

“i hate you.”

“love you too, haji.”

another groan slips out from him, but it’s twisted by the upturn of his lips. so expressive, as he’s always been.

“well, since that’s all settled,” you click your tongue, tapping your hands on the table and standing up from your seat. “i have some errands to run, so i’ll just take the check and—“

“aht,” iwaizumi interjects, snatching the ticket out of your hand and holding it out of your reach when you try to grab it back. “what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t pay for your meal.”

“fake boyfriend,” you correct, ignoring the cheeky simper etched onto hajime’s face. “i’m not letting you pay for my lunch.”

“yes, you are, dumbass.” he turns from you to walk towards the register, and you have no choice but to follow after, grumbling under your breath as he pulls his wallet out.

whatever, you’ll just take the check next time.

something within you cringes and mentally chastises you for already thinking about next time, but then again that’s part of the deal isn’t it? so maybe it isn’t wrong that you’re already thinking ahead. maybe you’re just trying to be prepared for once. yeah, that’s totally it.

“oi.”

fingers snap in your face, knocking you out of your little trance. you glare at the owner of them and pretend like you’re going to bite at them, making iwaizumi pull them away with a chuckle.

“no biting. hate to have to post pictures of you on the animal shelter site,” he snickers, smirk growing when you shoot him a glare. “which reminds me.. ah, miss? yeah, would you mind taking some pictures for us real quick?”

“you’re kidding,” you scoff, but when a hand rests on the small of your back, pulling you into the side of a firm chest, you realize he’s not.

“oh come on, just smile pretty,” hajime whispers into your ear, “act like you love me.”

the butterflies in your stomach are just a result from not having a boyfriend in so long, you convince yourself. because iwaizumi hajime most definitely does not have an effect on you. like hell he does. he’s just your brother’s lifetime best friend, and this is just a little favor.

hajime wastes no time in retrieving his phone from the girl and making his way towards the exit of the little diner. he holds the door open for you and you supply a thank you, of course. your phone dings with a notification as soon as you step out, and right there on the screen reads ‘iwahaj4 has tagged you in a photo.’

you shoot him a glance, fingers hovering over your screen for just a second, before you’re opening up instagram and clicking on the post. it’s just one of the photos the lady snapped, hajime’s hand on your waist and his cheek pressed to the top of your head, the two of you smiling, nothing really special.

the caption reads ‘my favorite person welcomed me home <3,’ and no, your cheeks are certainly not heating up.

so you do what any proper fake significant other would do. you comment back, just a little ‘so happy you’re home <3’ before closing out the app and turning back just in time to see iwaizumi raise a hand in a wave.

“okay. see you later, yn,” he dismisses before turning on his heel and heading in the opposite direction on the sidewalk. as if this is normal. like he didn’t just flip both of your worlds upside down in a matter of minutes with a single picture.

“see you!” you call after him, staring, for just a moment, to watch him walk around the corner. no sooner than he does, your phone rings. you answer it without even looking at the contact.

“when the hell did you become iwa-chan’s favorite person?!”

well, looks like your brother’s already seen it.

super.

reblogs appreciated!

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